My Man
by Laurielove
Summary: A series of detailed moments between Molly and Captain James. Mature readers only please. They fill in the parts the BBC left out. Detailed but romantic. They are distinct from each other, ie separate stories, although the last could follow the second. Molly Dawes/Captain James. I love these two so very much.
1. Afghan

**I've written a few of these in a series. They were born out of my unassuaged lust for Captain James, but I've found them changing as I've written. They become more character focused as they progress, although there is still plenty of, err, diversion, shall we say. ;-) **

**This one isn't strictly canon as it occurs at a time before they'd really even admitted how they felt to each other, but maybe could have or should have or something. It's set in Episode 3 just after Molly returns from the UK and Capt James is a little miffed at the revelation that she's spent time in Newport with Smurf. Beware, there be smutty goodness ahead. For those new to my writing, I tend not to leave things to the imagination.**

**For those who haven't seen it, Captain James is an upper middle-class army officer and Molly Dawes is an East End army medic private in his platoon on tour in Afghanistan. They shouldn't be having it off or falling in love or any of those things but they do. And basically, he is hotter than hell.**

**I own none of these characters, but would love to own Capt James. They belong to the writers, unfortunately. But I'd really like to play with Ben Aldridge from time to time. **

**LL x**

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><p>She stared out across the compound, the familiar blast of Afghan dust barely registering with her. Molly's eyes were fixed on his tent.<p>

This was all she wanted, to be back here, back with him, despite the danger, despite the trauma, this was where she belonged. He had wanted her back and she had returned to him. Her time away had made her ache with hollowness.

But as the gates had once more enclosed her in their world, and his gorgeous face had registered real again before her, he had not given her the warm smile and affirmation of welcome she'd craved. He had been cold, dismissive, and it made her want him all the more. She knew the reason for his distance – he was jealous.

His resentment of her time with Smurf was so palpable it hit her with force. _'What are you telling me for?'_ She'd told him her time with Smurf meant nothing because he needed to know. He needed to know she hadn't betrayed the feelings he'd stirred in her ... that she hadn't betrayed her love.

She should have ignored his childish reaction. She'd been coming back to an officer of Her Majesty's Army and been met with a sulking little boy.

So why did she only want to go to him and hold him and tell him how much she wanted him? Why did she want him all the more?

She should be packing. She should be sorting her things for the return to Bastion. The others were over in the mess tent, eating. Their noisy banter forced its way into her head. She loved the sound of it, she loved the reassurance of camaraderie, she'd longed for it when away, but now it grated on her. He wasn't part of it. He was shut in his quarters.

Molly glanced over at the mess tent. They were all focused on their food and their laddish humour. They weren't looking at her. On silent feet, as stealthily as if approaching an enemy bunker, she padded across to his tent.

'Sir?' Not Boss. Not right now.

'Come in.'

His voice alone sent her insides into a mad dance of need. Molly closed her eyes, took a deep, settling breath, and went inside.

He was standing, his back to the entrance, looking over some papers on his desk. He glanced over his shoulder when she entered and she saw the slightest widening of his eyes before he pulled back the mask of disinterest.

'What is it, Dawes?' he asked flatly. She hadn't expected anything more.

'Boss, I …'

'What?' He interrupted tersely before she'd even had a chance to continue.

'It's good to be back, Boss.'

'Back here?' He at last deigned to turn to look at her, but crossed his arms defensively and cocked a cynical eyebrow.

'Yes.'

'In hell, Dawes? How can it be good to be back in hell?'

She looked him fully in the eyes. 'You know what I mean.'

He didn't reply. For a time he returned her look and his defence was dropped. She stood her ground.

'How was Newport?' he asked, his voice softer but still containing an edge of cynicism.

'Good.'

James shrugged. 'There you go then. This can't be good. Newport – apparently – is "good".' His head was down again. He couldn't meet her eyes for long.

'It made me think of you.' She said it without thinking, but she wouldn't take it back, she couldn't.

At that he looked up, slowly, and gave her what she wanted, allowed her to read his face. And beyond the mask of military conformity she saw it – his open longing.

'You don't need to think of me except when I give you an order, Dawes.' Always the army man.

'But I do, Boss. You know that.' She stepped into him. He didn't back off. He stood, arms folded before him, his breath pulled in heavily through his nose. 'And I know you … I know you think of me too.'

'Don't do this, Dawes.'

'Just tell me, sir. Just tell me. That's all. That's all I want to know. Do you? Do you think of me too?'

His Adam's apple lurched along the elegant line of his neck, right where she wanted to nestle into it, right where she wanted to curl her head against it and inhale all he was. Desire was screaming from her. Whatever she had started, she couldn't stop now.

His eyes flittered to hers. 'Yes.'

They were so close the air between them fizzed. So close but still so distant. His arms remained crossed, she daren't move.

'Boss …'

The muscle in his jaw worked fast. 'Don't call me that now. Don't fucking do that, Dawes.'

'What?'

'Call me that, here, now. I just …'

She was back to the open, giving passion that had got her into trouble before, that she'd tried so hard to channel into her army work. But right now, it was all for him and she couldn't stop it. 'I want you so much it hurts like an open wound, Boss. I know I'm mad. I know I'm crazy. But I think I'll go even more crazy if I can't have you.'

He stared down at her, his firm body looming over her, his eyes now unable to look away. His tongue flitted out inadvertently to lick his lips and she felt a sob of need catch in her throat.

He uncrossed his arms and raised his right hand towards her. Warm, assured fingers cupped her face and stroked her cheek. A hand designed to command and take up arms and point for her to follow now caressed and smoothed over her skin so perfectly she would melt into him.

'How can I not do this? How can I send you away?' he asked, so softly it was almost a thought.

She looked up, her eyes dampening with tears. 'You don't have to send me away.'

His left hand came up, mirroring the first and enclosing her head completely in his hold. Molly's heart pounded, her stomach threatened to upend her. It had to be. They had no choice in this, either of them. Desire overrode reason.

Slowly but inexorably, the captain bent his head to hers. At the first touch of his lips, it was right. Nothing else mattered, no one else existed except them. His kiss was warm and soft at first, as if not wanting to impose, as if still amazed at it all, but she took control. She pushed against his pliant mouth and urged him for more. He responded, moving with firm assurance now, deepening the kiss, gently teasing and testing her openness. His fingers tightened on her scalp, tugging her hair so that a sharp pang darted through her. It only made her crave him more. Molly coiled her arms around his neck and over his shoulders, feeling those firm muscles she'd been unable to ignore. Her fingertips played in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, soft like a baby's. He pushed against her lips and opened her mouth, slipping in his tongue softly and secretly.

But she was ready and opened for him, starting a slow dance, absorbed entirely on his beautiful mouth and what it was doing to her. Molly pressed against him, desperate to feel all of him, the length and breadth of this man who had captivated her from the first moment he'd stood before the platoon. And as she pushed into him she felt more. His desire for her was unquestionable. She rubbed against the hardness between his legs, bold and certain. He groaned into her mouth.

'Fuck, Dawes, what are you doing to me? What are you fucking doing to me? This goes against everything I believe in. This is crazy.'

'Uh huh,' she murmured. But his hands were on her top and were tugging it out of her fatigues. Her hands mirrored his, reaching up to his shirt for the buttons. They returned to each other's mouths but their fingers were feverish in their need to reveal more. Urged on by him, Molly lifted her arms and let him tug off her top. Soon his shirt fluttered open and he quickly shrugged it from his shoulders.

He fumbled for the buttons on her fatigues and she stepped out of them. Molly stood before her captain in only her bra and pants. She read the lust in his face as his eyes pored over her body.

'We must stop. Right now. We have to stop,' he said. His voice was as commanding as ever, but his hands disobeyed his own demands. He reached behind her back for her clasp and the bra loosened around her. She let it tumble to the floor as his mouth sought hers again.

'Jesus Christ,' he murmured as her naked breasts were revealed. 'You are so fucking beautiful.'

'Just like you,' she replied, tugging off his t-shirt so that she was at last able to feel that perfect torso underneath. 'Want you more than anything, want you, sir, want you …'

'Don't fucking call me that now!' his groaned between devouring kisses.

'Sorry, Boss,' she breathed, eliciting a grunt of desirous despair from him as he pulled her in hard against him and plunged his tongue possessively into her giving mouth.

The rest of their clothes were soon discarded and they stood in his quarters naked and stripped of rank and reason. His hands slid down over her smooth skin and he almost sobbed in wonder at what he had before him. 'Molly, fucking hell, Molly. God, do you know how long I've wanted this? Too long. Too fucking long.' His hands grazed over her belly and up to her breasts, which he cupped almost reverentially, letting his thumbs graze over the taut nipples. She sucked in as pleasure darted through her and pressed into him. His cock rose up between them, thick and hard. Their need was too great for niceties now. She reached down and came across the head, full and damp. He hissed and lost focus for a moment, enough for her to pull him down for another kiss and walk him back towards the bed.

But his dominance asserted itself and he took control, moving her quickly, so quickly that she fell with a laugh across it and he on top of her.

'I've dreamt of this. Every night, every moment I could … what it would be like to be inside you, what it would be like to be inside all that vitality.'

'It's yours. It's all yours. Do it.'

A slight frown took hold of his face, as if the reality of the moment was almost unbearable. It only made him more stunning. He reached between her legs and found her wet and ready. Those skilled fingers stroked from her perineum up to find the little bud of anticipation crying out for his touch. She keened in bewildered pleasure and arched onto his fingers. He rubbed and teased her for as long as he dared, eking out the expectation, building her need desperately.

Molly bucked off the bed and tightened her grip on his back. He hissed as her nails scratched. 'Fucking do it, Boss! Please, Boss, please!' she cried.

'I told you …' he slurred in a voice thick with lust, '… not to call me that.' But his true response came as she felt the hardness of his cock edging inside her, sliding up into all she was, pushing deeper and deeper.

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened to pull in air. His face was inches above her, his own expression tight with the pleasure she was giving him. He frowned a little as he squeezed in, as deep and hard as he could, right to the hilt.

They were joined. Connected. Bound together.

'Oh, Jesus, yes!' she sobbed. He swallowed and pulled back only to plunge hard back up into her.

When he was embedded in her, all was good, all was fine. Nothing could go wrong, she knew that now. As long as he was inside her. Each time he withdrew, a little something inside died, but when he thrust back in, strong, deep and thick, she was rooted to him, grounded.

He built up a steady rhythm now, moving in and out of her with regular pistoning strokes. He reached under and lifted her leg. She curled both around him for maximum penetration and he went at her. In this way, he caught her clit with each thrust, but when his hand slipped down and also found the fat little nub, she was lost.

'Oh, don't stop that! Don't ever fucking stop that!'

Her captain was beyond words. His strokes were almost demonic now, as he powered into her with possessive certainty.

She was lifted to the last level before the fall, ready to tumble. Molly gasped in as her orgasm teetered on the brink. After one final thrust, she came. Pleasure ripped its way through her chaotically. She shook so hard, she had to cling to him. With that, he came too. His gorgeous face creased in what seemed like agony as he released deep into her, each pulse real and clear. With each burst came a groan of ecstasy, propelled from deep within him.

Afterwards, neither spoke. They were beyond that. No words of urgency, no 'Boss', no 'Dawesy'. Just silence and completion.

He lay on top of her and she revelled in his weight pinning her down. She could still feel him twitching inside, the final moments that confirmed his devotion. She'd never felt such unbridled joy after sex, had never been so acutely aware that she had given something wonderful to another human being.

'Thank God for you, Molly. Thank God you came into my life,' he panted against her ear.

Now the tears did fall. She'd held them back and berated herself for letting them slip. She turned her head into his hair and dried her eyes on the softness of it.

Soon enough, the passing of time registered and stirrings of panic took hold. 'Shit. The others will be wondering where I am. They'll be finishing their pigging-out fest by now.'

James chuckled and reluctantly rolled off her to the side. 'I don't need to tell you not to mention this to a soul.'

She gave him a glare of pissed off disbelief. 'You must be fucking joking. You seriously think you need to tell me that?'

'It would be the end for us both if anyone found out, Molly.'

'I know that, doofus. I ain't daft.'

He smiled tenderly. 'No, you're not. You're incredible.'

She leant over to kiss him again. He curled his hand around her neck to hold her there but she pulled off with a groan. 'Seriously, this is crazy. They'll start looking for me.' Molly forced herself from his bed and started to dress rapidly. James lay back and just stared at her.

'What is it about me that you like, Dawesy?'

'Dawesy again, is it, Boss?' She laughed. 'I dunno. Maybe it's your posh boy voice … or the way you look when you work out … or those deep brown eyes of yours.' She grinned and put on the last of her clothes. 'Or the way you switch from stupid knob-wanking banter with those other twats then into this brilliant officer everyone would die for … But basically, I've gotta admit …' Molly sauntered over to the tent flap, but looked over and flashed him a smile just before leaving. '… it's the uniform.'

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><p><strong>Oh yes, it is.<strong>

**May have to write one or two more of these. For those awaiting other stuff (EW or TaGD) patience will be rewarded ... I'm typing, I'm typing ... ;-) x**

**Oh, and review type things are always gobbled up avidly. xx**


	2. Bath

**Thanks for the great response to the first in this series. I've now retitled that My Man - Afghan, and, as you can see, this one is Bath. This one is totally distinct from the first. It is set canonically from when they are walking back from the restaurant in Episode 5. It is assumed, as in the show, that they haven't done it yet - ie shared a bowl of CocoPops ;-) .**

**This one, despite still having some belly-churning smut, is deliberately more romantic than the first, and more tender, I suppose. More in keeping with the tone of their romance, I hope. I think I prefer this one to the first. I love these two so, so much. **

**If you've found this through your own love of Our Girl, welcome to new readers, and thanks for joining us. Now over to Molly and the totally utterly gorgeously perfect Captain James. LL x**

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><p>Molly wondered how a man could still be so effing sexy with a support on his leg.<p>

Admittedly, it took a while to walk back. Bossman had to take it slowly; his leg would take months to heal properly. But Molly barely noticed the slow pace. She'd never been happier. At some point she'd have to start calling him Charles. She smiled to herself. Nah. How could she do that? She'd rather call him James. A first name just didn't seem right with him. Or Cockwomble. She could call him that. She gave him a sneaky glance as they walked and a laugh escaped her.

'What's funny?' he smiled, his eyes dancing.

'Nothin'.'

'Something is, clearly.'

'Not sure I can call you Charles.'

'Why not?'

'Dunno. Don't think of you like that.'

'Well …' He stared ahead of him and wrinkled his nose in that stupidly cute way he had. 'I'm sure you can think of something else.'

She slipped her hand through his and felt his fingers tightening around hers. He looked down and sniffed out a laugh.

'Now it's my turn – what's funny, Boss?'

'This. Holding your hand. Here.'

'Don't you want to?'

'God, yes. More than anything. But it's not something I could have thought about in Afghan.'

She looked around her at the tall, golden buildings. Birdsong rippled from the branches of the trees. The sun shining above them was tender and warm, not the blistering aggressor it had been.

'This is about as far from Afghan as it gets.'

His grip tightened. 'Can't believe you're here with me.'

'Well, I am, so get used to it, stupid.'

He turned and laughed again. 'I'm still me, you know, Molly. No matter where we are. I'm me and I love you.'

She stopped and looked at him. 'That makes two of us.'

His face lost the crease of humour and he stared hard into her, leaning in, as close as he had been that time in the hospital with Sohail. And like then, his hands rose to cup her face. She would never feel safer, never feel better.

'Molly …' he murmured, his voice thick and low. 'Want you, want you so much.'

She could have him now. Right here. Right here on the street in front of everyone. Her need for him had grown like some wild thing, uncontained and limitless. She turned her head up and felt his lips brush hers. She opened for him and they were locked in the deepest kiss in the next instant. They stood there, clinging to each other on a street in Bath, trying to absorb the other.

A woman brushed past with a black Labrador that wound its way around their legs. 'Goodness. Not here, thank you!' muttered the woman as she passed.

They broke apart. Charles turned to the woman, extending his hands in apology. 'I'm so terribly sorry. Do forgive us.'

Molly stifled her laugh in her hand. His effusive apology made him sound like Prince William or something. But the woman melted under his gentlemanly charm. 'Oh, that's alright. Young love,' she smiled before moving on.

When she was out of earshot, Molly dissolved into giggles again. Charles joined her. 'Get you,' she said. 'Sound like Mr bloody Darcy!'

'What's wrong with that?'

'Nothin', just most men I know would've been effin' and blindin' at her to mind her own bloody business.'

'I'm not most men.'

'No …' She curled her arms around his waist and held him against her. 'You're my man. Now … Captain Charles James … Take me to bed or lose me forever.'

He cocked an eyebrow. 'Top Gun?'

'Yeah.'

'I'm not air force. Does it matter?'

'Shouldn't think so,' she grinned. 'But I'll tell you after. Are we ever gonna get to this bleedin' house of yours or what?'

Charles took her hand and, for a man with a severely wounded leg, managed the last few yards with considerable speed. He led her into a wide, curved street, one of the most beautiful places she'd ever seen. 'Royal Crescent' it said. Maybe you had to be a prince or princess to live here, she wondered. Soon enough they were walking up the steps of one of the houses. Molly had fallen silent. She didn't belong here. How could this be happening? What was this weird world she found herself in? But Bossman turned and smiled and everything was alright again.

He opened the door and led her inside. The first thing Molly did was look up. It went on forever, right up to heaven, as far as she could tell. Right up, higher and higher, staircases curling around, drawing her eyes and her spirit up with them. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

But instead of the sense of inadequacy she feared would take hold, she felt again that deep sense of everything being all right. She looked at him. He was staring at her, only at her. That was all. She was with him. About bloody time. Silently, he walked her up the stairs.

With each step her desire grew more uncontrollable, like it would burst out if she couldn't have him. His grip tightened as they mounted the stairs and through it she could sense his own need, lust seeping from his very core.

He pulled her into a bedroom but she saw nothing of it. Before she knew it she had fallen back across the bed and her captain was leaning over her.

He took a moment to study her, as if needing to fix the moment in his head, as if it was too precious to rush. That was fine with Molly. It was. She had waited so long for this, she could wait a few seconds more for perfection.

But then, when everything was set, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her.

At first it was gentle and questing, like they were two teenagers discovering intimacy for the first time, almost shy. He was again like the little boy he'd revealed through his jealousy, and it made her love him even more.

But then she felt his hand moving down, stroking over her dress, running firmly along her waist and hips. She opened her eyes and looked into his. His expression had altered and he was now that same man who had strode out before his platoon at Brize Norton.

'Now, Dawes?'

'Now, Boss.'

He bent again to kiss her, and there was a new determination to him. He was sliding up her dress and she let her leg fall to the side. She was burning for him, desperate for his touch, and instinctively she arched up, seeking it out.

'Steady,' he said, but his fingers had found their goal. Still kissing her, he coiled them around the band of her knickers and tugged. Molly lifted her hips to help them off. She kicked desperately as they worked their way down her legs. He smirked at her haste. 'Plenty of time, Dawesy.'

'Not anymore,' she slurred, finding the buttons on his shirt and hurrying to undo them. But her hands fell limply to the bed a moment later. He'd touched her. Those perfect strong fingers had found her right at the very heart of her desire. She drew in a sudden breath as pleasure tapped at her awareness, focusing every sense and fibre in her being on what he was doing. He stroked, sliding down through her wetness then back up to the plump bud nestled at the top. She couldn't help a little moan rise from her.

He smiled gently. 'There you are, right where I want you.'

'That's so good,' she sighed. His fingers continued to stroke, now building in ever-growing circles, not quite touching her directly, but working around her clit so that each movement built pleasure on pleasure. Her skin was pricked with goosebumps but burning up. She threw a hand up to his shoulder and held him tight, almost painfully. He just carried on stroking.

And then his hand slipped under and he pushed one, then two fingers up into her, slowly, as if learning her for the first time. She sobbed, acutely aware of him inside her. Charles's brows furrowed a little, almost in revelation.

'Molly … you're so incredibly wet.'

She felt herself blushing and had to avert her eyes. 'Can't help it. You do that to me.' His fingers were out again and circling her clit. She reached down and grabbed onto his wrist, not wanting to lose that feeling. 'Ooh, Jesus, that is so good!'

'I used to lie there in my tent at night, Molly. I used to lie there and wonder about you. Wonder what you'd feel like, what you'd sound like when you came, how that amazing face of yours would look when I made you come.'

'When you made me come?'

'Yes, me, only me, Molly. Only fucking me.'

'Yes, Boss, only you. Please …'

'Please what?' His touch had slackened a little. He was teasing her. She almost wailed.

'Please make me come now.'

He gave her the slightest cause for hope – tiny tickling grazes. Her clit throbbed for him, her desire wailed in frustration.

'Are you begging me, Dawes?' he crooned, his voice lilting.

'Yes! Anything! Please, sir, please!'

'Back to sir, is it? Bloody hell, Molly, I'm not Christian fucking Grey!'

'No, Boss, I'll take you over him any day! Oh, Christ, please touch me again!'

He let out a low chuckle but her answer came when his fingers started their movement again, building now, faster and faster. It didn't take long. She was so ready, so primed that anything would tip her over.

'Ooh, God, yes!' she cried out. It was happening. Pleasure. She came so hard her eyes squeezed shut and she opened her mouth and wailed. But as her hips bucked off the bed with the force of it, his fingers didn't leave her and he sent another surge of ecstatic sensation dashing through her body, right down to make her toes curl.

She came down slowly, and he let her. She lay there, eyes closed, heavy sated bliss seeping through her body. At length, she looked up at him. He was smiling down teasingly. 'I take it that was okay.'

'You'll do,' she smirked. He kissed her again, his tongue slipping in and making dizzying circles in her mouth. But this time Molly pulled away. 'Now … your turn.'

She pulled him up to kneel on the bed as she knelt opposite him. Her hands returned to his shirt and undid the remaining buttons with slow deliberation this time.

She glanced down. His jeans were tenting out and his breath came in short fast pants. 'Don't make me wait too long, Molly. I've been a very patient man, you know.'

She gave him no answer but looked up at him and bit her lip slyly.

She avoided undoing his jeans but pushed his shirt from his shoulders and finally had his naked torso before her. Now she bit her lip without even realising it. God, he was stunning. She'd caught glimpses before – in the paddling pool, working out, but had forced herself not to linger on those moments. Now, he was right here and he was hers. With deliberate sensuality she placed her hands on the lower part of his abdomen, relishing the tightness of his muscles, and slid them up, slowly and with aching languor, causing him to groan in torment. When she reached his shoulders she curled her hands around his neck and pulled him into her. They kissed, but he took the opportunity to pull her dress up over her head and unclasp her bra. She was soon naked without even realising it.

There was a sensuality to their sex that she'd never known before. This wasn't sex, she guessed, this was what people called making love. She hadn't reckoned she'd ever do that – make love. Wasn't that what people in old movies did? But this was so incredibly good and right. She couldn't have anyone else ever again. Her need to please him was so overwhelming that it felt like it would stifle her. But his kiss brought her back.

'So beautiful, Molly,' he said, his lust clear. 'Please …'

She smiled at him. 'Your turn to beg?'

'Do I have to?' He was looking at her in that way again, that way that meant she'd love him for always. She knew it then. She took a moment to glance down to find the buttons of his jeans then looked right back into his eyes while she undid each one. His eyes fluttered shut and his chest rose and fell fast in anticipation.

Her fingers brushed over his erection as she worked and each time he sucked in sharply. Molly enjoyed her little moment of power, of role reversal. Now she was in command. He was entirely in her hands. She slid her hands to the band of his jeans and took hold of his trunks at the same time. With no more hesitation, she pushed down, revealing him fully.

She looked down and her eyes widened. 'Now there's something I'd womble any day.'

He sniffed out a laugh and she noticed the faintest pinking of his cheeks. She liked embarrassing him. Just a little. Charles shuffled off the bed and pulled off his jeans and underwear at last then climbed back on the bed, pushing her down again.

Niceties were over. They needed this like oxygen itself. He leaned down to kiss her a final time and she parted her legs for him, beckoning him in.

He held himself in one hand and pushed. Molly gasped and saw his Adam's apple lurch along his neck. He pushed again, deeper and deeper until he was in her to the hilt. For a time they couldn't move or speak. She held his back, stroking it a little, just feeling him hard and long inside her.

She could feel his breaths shushing against her neck, as if he was trying to hold himself back. She stroked his hair. It was so soft, so soft and delicate, she could do it all day.

'This is where you belong,' she said, barely audibly, but he heard it because he replied.

'Yes.' He took in a breath sharply and she felt him large inside her. 'I have to move,' he said. 'I want to move.'

Molly pushed on his shoulders so that she could look at him and gave him a kiss of acceptance. 'Move for me.'

So he pulled back, the slightest amount, and she felt the head of his cock stroking her secrets. He withdrew almost to the point of falling from her but then pushed back, harder this time, right in again. She gasped at the sudden fullness of it and clenched down on him, eliciting the most gorgeous groan. He did it again, out then in. Never had she felt so in tune with a man, so at one with another body. Could it be like this? Was this for real? She stared up into his eyes, eyes that had inhabited her days and nights for months now, and knew that it was.

'Oh, fuck, that's …' he moaned, his words dying as brewing pleasure ransacked his body.

'Don't stop moving, please don't.'

He looked down and picked up his pace, ploughing through her now, each thrust purposeful and real. 'No, Molly, never. I won't. I won't.'

She clung to him, her fingers would later leave bruises, but neither of them noticed or cared. He surged through her, faster and faster, and she rose to meet each thrust, each powering drive affirming all she wanted, all she'd ever wanted. Here, in Afghan, it didn't matter, as long as they were together.

'Christ, Molly, I'm … I'm …' His face twisted and he opened his mouth and released a cry, guttural with abandon. He was coming so hard she wondered if he'd survive it. But then she joined him. As she felt him pulsing deep inside her, her own orgasm took her by force, and as his cock still released she met him, coming harder than ever, her neck strained, her body rigid with pleasure. Her own cry echoed off the high walls of the room and was thrown back to their heaving bodies.

And then there was silence, that heavy, damp, awed silence when you know it'll never be right with anyone else again. He lay on top of her, heavy, and she loved it. She could still feel him inside her, little twitches, as if in gratitude.

They would have to speak at some point, she supposed. And at that point, her stomach rumbled.

He gave a little chuckle. 'Don't tell me you're hungry after that fabulous meal I just arranged for you?'

'Maybe.'

He pulled up and stroked her face, his gaze so heavy with adoration she almost cried. The movement caused him to slip from her. She pouted sadly. 'Don't go.'

'Sorry. Not for long.'

Her stomach rumbled again and she threw a hand onto it and laughed. 'I was so bloody taken with you in the restaurant I hardly ate a bloody thing.'

'I'll get you something. What do you fancy?' He moved to sit on the side of the bed and looked over his shoulder at her.

She grinned across at him. 'Coco Pops?'

'Knew you'd say that. Never have I enjoyed dipping my spoon in someone's bowl of cereal so much.'

'Long may it continue.'

He turned and was on her again, kissing her hard. 'Oh yes, it will.' Charles grazed down her neck until he reached her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth to tongue and tease.

She moaned. 'Oh, God, don't do that now – where are me Coco Pops?'

Charles pulled up with a laugh. 'You're insatiable.'

'You'd better believe it, sunshine.'

He stood up, pulling on his trunks as he did so. 'Love you,' she said.

He looked back, his face warm with acceptance. 'Ditto.'

'If you hadn't just done what you've done, I'd thump you for that, but … yeah … that'll do alright.' He leaned down and they were kissing again. She didn't think they'd ever stop kissing. But some things had to be done. Molly pulled back and grinned. 'Now go and get my Coco Pops, you massive cockwomble.'

* * *

><p><strong>I may ... maaaaaayyyyy ... do another one. I think maybe we need one for what happens after he shuts the door on them at the very end of the credits, don't you? ;-)<strong>

**Let me know your thoughts, on this, the next one, and Captain James generally, because right now I could talk and think about him all day. Yes, I really, really could. LL x**


	3. Back

**(Sorry for lengthy author's notes, but take the time to read them if you can, please.)**

**Here we are. Very end of Episode 5 after the credits. What happened when he closed the door? This one can stand alone, but also fits with the previous Bath one. I refer to the Top Gun reference again, in fact. **

**I've been thinking a lot about these two (no duh!) and how I write for them, and my attitude has changed since early in the series. After all 5 episodes my need to write full on explicit stuff for them shifted, believe it or not. I have to say, he had me hooked before it even started. I fell full on for CJ when I first saw the trailer, hence my overwhelming lust splurge! But having seen their romance develop and end satisfactorily, my needs changed.**

**I've included the explicit stuff because I like writing it and a lot of people like reading it. It scratches an itch, shall we say. It does work here, and I hope it's sensual and loving, but they don't really need it, you know - they've got it sorted themselves. So, here's the deal. There's smut in this (although I wouldn't call it that, I'd call it - for want of a better word - love making), but there's also a lot of character and plot and talk of the future. And I LOVED writing that just as much, if not more. **

**So. They go into the bedroom at one point (about two thirds in) and close the door. I continue on the inside of that room, but if you prefer, and I understand if you do, read the first part, then stay outside the room and don't read on. Maybe skip ahead and read the last paragraph. But, equally, if you do stay in the room with them, find yourself a quiet spot, make sure you're alone, don't feel guilty and enjoy. It's been different for me writing for these two. I don't think I'm done with them yet, but I think anything more won't be an M rating. I'm desperate to write a scene where she meets his mother. I've got his mother's character firmly in my head.**

**I'm fully aware that these author's notes are directed at some new readers. It has been a real, real pleasure to have you join me from MumsNet and Tumblr and thank you for your insightful comments. I'm keeping a closer eye on you than you think. ;-) Welcome. Loved writing these. Enjoy. LL x**

* * *

><p>She knocked. The door opened. He stood there, him all over again. Her heart beat frantically, but she kept her cool.<p>

'Missed me?'

He didn't answer. But he smiled. That smile she had thought of every night. There it was again, right in front of her.

But this time she didn't lap it up eagerly like the puppy she'd been. She stood and returned it, knowing she was giving him the biggest thrill to see her there. Knowing she was looking her best for him, knowing she'd done what she wanted and what he wanted. She'd been brilliant and now she'd brought that brilliance back to him.

He gave a little jerk of his head to beckon her in and something skipped wildly inside her. She walked in like a boss. Like a boss, no longer a stranger to the house or him.

He shut the door and turned to her, still beaming. She thought she'd burst.

'You look …' He couldn't finish his sentence. He exhaled and looked down.

'Go on.'

'You look incredible. You look so incredibly beautiful.'

She flushed with pride. 'Thanks. You're not so bad yourself.'

They were both reeling themselves in, holding back from an undignified mess of ripped clothes and bodies flung across the hallway. It was too sacred a moment not to have a little patience. She noticed his gloved hands. 'What you been doin'? Buryin' a body in the garden?'

For a moment he appeared wide-eyed with shock. She nodded to the gloves and he exhaled a laugh like he always did, the way that made her stomach flip. 'Oh these? Just some cutting back. The escallonia needs taking in hand.'

'Does it now?'

'It does.'

'Is that what you've been up to then? Giving some bushes a right seeing to?'

'Well …' He swayed his head, then her innuendo struck home. He bit his lip, locked eyes with her and laughed. 'No … I've been waiting for … you.'

She gave him a slight smile then glanced about. 'You on your own?'

'For now. My dad's in Dubai and my mum's …'

'With him?'

'At a book club.'

'Ah.'

'But she'll be out for a while. And it's a big house.'

Molly looked about her with a smirk. 'Well … s'alright.'

She stood there. He couldn't stop looking at her, almost like he couldn't believe she was real.

'You can touch me, you know,' she said with a tease. 'Or have you gone off me?'

His expression lost its wonder and grew serious. 'What? No, Molly. I just … no. I thought …'

'What?'

'All this time. I … It's been hell. I thought you might have … gone off _me_.'

She almost spluttered out a laugh of disbelief, but she'd grown beyond that and could sense his genuine insecurity. She stepped up to him. 'The day I go off you is the day I stop being a Hammer.'

His eyes narrowed. 'Umm …'

'You don't have a bleedin' clue what I'm talkin' about, do you?'

Charles' eyes widened suddenly in realisation. 'Got it! West Ham. Football. See?' He held his hands out to the sides, inviting her appreciation. 'I'm not as clueless as I appear. Anyway, you're not going off West Ham any day soon I take it?'

'Not until the day I die.' With that, she curled her arms about his neck. 'Been wanting to do this for months.'

He sniffed out through his smile.

'Go on,' she said.

'Go on what?'

'Say it then. I'll try again: Been wanting to do this for months.'

Charles beamed. He held her eyes and spoke. 'Ditto.'

His hands had found their way around her waist and with her in his arms at last his effortless confidence returned. He pulled her in close and after a final look into her eyes, as if affirming her presence, he bent to kiss her.

God, it was like coming home. She'd missed him. She'd missed him so much. The way he held her made her melt into him. She didn't mind if they stayed like this forever. There was no urgency to do anything but kiss, a deep, slow kiss that healed and soothed.

Eventually – a minute later, an hour, she didn't know – they drew apart and he rested his head on her forehead.

'D'you know what?' she said.

'What? Take you to bed or lose you forever?'

'Nah. I could murder a cup o' tea. The bed thing can wait 'til after a brew. Nice shirt by the way.' She smiled and sauntered through to the kitchen. Before, Molly had only ever been in the house when his parents were away. She saw his mother's things lying on the table: a scarf, a rota for flower arranging in the Abbey, a well-thumbed copy of a Nigel Slater book. Before, it would have thrown her; she would have got the wibbly-wobblies in her tummy as her sister called them. Not now. She watched as Charles filled a large round kettle and put it on some sort of weird stove thing. It looked like something out of _Downton Abbey_ – not that she ever watched it, there was usually something better on the other side at that time.

'Don't you have a normal kettle from Argos like everyone else?'

'We use the Aga.'

'That thing? Looks like it needs coal.'

He chuckled. 'No, this one's gas. Not as low tech as it seems. Manages to heat most of the house too, although this place is a little big even for this beast.' He turned around and leant back on the Aga rail. 'So … how was it?'

'Told you in my letters.'

'Yeah, but … I just want to listen to you talking. I love your voice.'

'Ain't no one said that to me before. They're normally telling me to shut the fuck up and stop whinging.'

'You don't whinge.'

'Nah. Not any more at least.'

He poured the tea and brought it over to her on the table, where he sat across from her. 'What was it like? Tell me.'

He was looking at her intensely, not only to hear her voice, but to hear about the army again. He missed it, and the loss of it sat tense in his beautiful body. She reached over and held his hand. 'Felt good to be back on deployment. But to start with it was weird having more responsibility. I actually had to plan stuff, think about what I was going to say. Normally, I talk first, think later.'

'I noticed.'

She shot him a teasing glare. 'But … y'know, I did it. It's weird having all them faces lookin' at you. They sit there and you think – nah, you're all takin' the piss – you think I'm spoutin' a load of old bollocks. But, they didn't. Their faces were open and new and they wanted what I could give them. They wanted it, _me_. It made me feel … so alive. So grown up. Silly, eh?'

'No. Did it change you?'

'Not change. Just made me realise that I had it in me after all. It was always there, I guess, just needed something to let me know that what I could give was worth what anyone else could give.'

He smiled softly, not looking away from her. 'And your feedback?'

'Yeah …' She blushed and dropped her head.

'Go on.'

'The CO said he'd never seen a bunch of new medics so engaged and motivated. He said that my experience and manner just made them respect me so much. Said I was the best he'd had in as long as he could remember.'

Charles looked at her, his eyes alight. 'I believe him.'

'He wants me to …' She laughed in disbelief.

'What?'

'He wants me to take a commission. He wants me to become a bleedin' officer!'

She was almost worried at what he'd say. She bit her lip, the first time she'd been anxious since walking into the house again. The beat of silence stretched out interminably.

'You must.'

She darted her head up to look at him, but there was no cynicism in his voice, no envy, just complete acceptance and devotion. 'There's no doubt,' he reiterated.

'You fuckin' joking? Me? I've barely even got any GCSEs, let alone a degree!'

'You don't need all that. If you're moving up from serving soldier, you'll need to attend ASOB and have tests and interviews, but if you've already been recommended, they'll know you're one to look out for. You may have to brush up on a few things, take an exam or two, but you can do that.'

'Can I?' Her face was skewed with doubt. She took a gulp of tea.

'Yes. You can. Christ, Molly, I'm …' He sighed. 'I want to say I'm proud of you but that sounds stupid and patronising.'

'Wha's that mean?'

He laughed. 'It means that I'd feel as if I was in some way superior to you, that you were lucky to have my admiration, which is as far from the case as it can be. You're my equal. In fact you put me to shame. Look at me, in Bath pruning fucking escallonia.' He looked away and his face grew solemn.

'You nearly died. You need to be 100 percent fit again. That's all.'

He ran a hand through his hair and his frustration fizzed off him. 'I'm going crazy, Molly. I'm going fucking crazy.'

She spoke determinedly. 'Your support's off, I noticed. Meant to say.'

'Yeah. I'm nearly there.'

'So, what next?' she asked, optimism rising in her.

'Well, my old CO got in touch. You know that before everything ... us here, Smurf's funeral … I drafted my letter of resignation. I sent it. They opened it, registered it, but apparently put it aside, put it down as done 'under a time of stress' or something. They haven't accepted it yet. They want me to be fully rehabilitated before they make a decision. They want to see me again.'

'But … that's wonderful!'

'Is it?' He didn't reflect her elation.

'Yes.'

'I made a terrible mistake, Molly. I made a mistake because I let my feelings interfere. A soldier doesn't do that.'

'You didn't. It wasn't anything to do with you, you know that really.'

'If Smurf hadn't known, none of that would have happened on the bridge. We would all have been focussed. He shouldn't have found out.' He was wringing his hands together.

'Do the board know the full story?' she asked.

'Yes. I have to be honest.'

'But they haven't called me in.'

'Because nothing really happened between us. We're allowed to have feelings, as long as we don't act on them.'

'But we kissed.'

'They … let that go.'

'Seriously?'

'We were under pressure, apparently.'

'Under pressure to kiss?' Her face creased in surprise. 'I'd never wanted anything so much in my life!'

'They actually commended us for 'not giving in to our needs', as they put it. I think the fact that I came clean to them first, resigning my commission and everything, swayed things. I was open about it. And you got the MC. You impressed them. A lot. There aren't enough good soldiers. They don't want to lose the ones they have.' They fell silent for a time, holding hands across the table. 'Another thing … My divorce came through. That's all finalised now.'

A warm rush flooded through Molly. The relief was so extreme she felt tears prickling. She forced them back and gave his hand a squeeze. 'How's Sam?'

'Good. Kids … they're nothing if not adaptable. I'm seeing him on Saturday. He's coming here.'

Again, she waited for the wibbly wobblies. They didn't come. She loved kids. She remembered his son's cheeky face in the hospital. But she didn't want to make things awkward. 'I'll go back to London before he gets here.'

Charles interjected immediately. 'No. Don't. He wants to meet you. I've told him about you.'

She wasn't sure. 'It's tricky.'

'It can be. But if the person is right, it doesn't have to be. You'll be brilliant. You _are_ brilliant.'

She smiled. 'Couldn't have done it without you.'

'I've done nothing.'

'You've done everything. Made me believe in myself. If someone like you could feel anything for me … then … I guess I must be doing something right.'

'Jesus, Molly, don't you realise what strength you always had? I told you back in Afghan, that fucking horrific day when Smurf came in with the ring … I told you you'd taught me more than I learnt at Sandhurst. I meant that. Believe it.'

'Alright, Boss. Keep yer hair on.' She laughed. 'But all these things you're telling me about myself, you'd better bloody believe it about you too. You've got that strength. You're a brilliant soldier. An incredible officer. They need you and they want you. You're still Captain James!'

'Yeah …' He laughed again, almost as if he couldn't believe it. 'And … ' With that his expression changed into the stern front of determination she loved so much. 'I think I'm going to stay.'

'Thank fuck for that!' she said, brimming with happiness.

He laughed, as if in relief at having at last said it out loud and having her affirm it. 'God, I can't wait to start again. I feel like I've been chewing my own tail here. I could be Major James this time next year.'

'Ooh, don't know if I like that. 'Major'? Doesn't have the same ring to it as 'Captain'.' She looked at him and winked. 'But … everyone knows about us now. Does it matter?'

'No. Just as long as we're not in the same command.'

'So I won't be under you again?'

'Well …' He smirked and gave her one of those looks, like when he'd written on her arm and told her he'd adore her for always. 'Depends what you mean by under me. Speaking of which … You've finished your tea.'

He was leaning across the table towards her. 'What time does your mum get back?' she asked with a smirk.

'Hours. She's meeting friends after. Hours and hours … and hours …'

He kissed her, slow, sure and knowing, but his hands were on her now, guiding her up. He grazed over her skin and she bared it for him, revelling in the sensation of those pliant lips on her again. 'Could have you right here. On the table,' he hummed.

She almost gave in. After all, in the past she'd rarely made it to an actual bed. But not right now. With him, she did things properly. She held him back, her head swimming with need, and took hold of his hand. 'No, not here. Take me upstairs.'

Charles sniffed out a smile. 'Anything … but this time … we get there at the double.' With that, he pulled her to her feet and raced with her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. 'Come on, Dawes! Anyone would think you had your stilettos on!'

She tried to hurl some suitable retort at him, but all that came was a laugh, especially when she had such a prime view of his legs – and that adorable tight bum of his – striding purposefully up ahead of her.

By the time they reached the bedroom, all sense of decorum was gone. They had months to make up for. The niceties were done, the talking over. He shut the door on them and pushed her against the door, tugging her shirt over her head and finding the zip of her jeans.

'Blimey, Boss, steady on!' she gasped, but her own fingers were mimicking his. Soon his shirt and t-shirt were off. Shoes and socks were kicked to the side and trousers stepped on under quick feet.

'What, Molly? Too much for you? Don't tell me you've been slacking?' He grinned.

She gave him her answer by drawing him in for the hardest kiss and curling her leg around his thigh, pulling him hard against her so that his hard-on dug into her. He reached behind to undo her bra and then moved down, pushing her knickers off easily before ridding himself of his trunks. They were naked again. Molly threw her head out and laughed in delight. 'Why did we wait so long?'

'You wanted a cup of tea,' he slurred before dropping his head to nibble on the dip in her neck as it curved into her shoulder. 'And I am, I hope … an officer and a gentleman.'

'Show me.'

He leant into her and took her hands, pulling them above her head and pinning them to the door. She left them there while he reached down and grabbed her backside, hoisting her up so that she was held only by him. Her legs curled around his hips and he pressed her against the door and kissed her so divinely she thought she'd faint. She'd forgotten the way he kissed, or at least suppressed the memory of it while she couldn't have it. The way he plucked at her lips then slid his tongue in with teasing insistence, the way he ran it round in circles that made her want him to disappear into her. But soon, with a grunt of determination, he pulled back and carried her over to the bed. They fell on top of it with a laugh, which was immediately silenced as he plundered her mouth once again.

But Charles drew himself up and his face calmed for a moment. He looked down at her, his expression almost childlike with wonder. He moved to stroke her body, running his hand from her face, down over her neck, along the curve of her waist and hips. She smiled gently up at him and was rewarded with another kiss. Now he moved, down along her neck, down over her collarbone, little kisses and nips, until he reached her right breast. He held it tenderly, cupping the soft flesh, then closed his mouth around the nipple. Molly gasped in with the sudden pleasure and he glanced up before reapplying himself.

'That's … oh God, yes!'

He licked and sucked and nuzzled and right when she thought she would come from that alone, she felt the sharpest little tug of teeth, not too hard, just enough for her to buck up, to arch into him for more. But he abandoned her with a chuckle and she threw her head to the side with a moan. But he was still moving downwards, letting his tongue trail a fiery path over her smooth belly, down, down.

Molly threw a fist to her mouth in anticipation. Months on tour had denied her any pleasure of this kind. And now she was back, back with him.

He was between her legs, his head sitting poised to draw her expectation to such a pinnacle she thought she may cry. His fingers touched her, moving her dewy flesh apart to open her for him. His eyes reflected his own rapture as much as hers as he gazed at what was before him, but then he darted his gaze up and quirked his mouth in the wickedest, most hypnotically sexy grin.

'Missed me?' he said. Then he dipped his head and licked.

That was almost it. Right then. At the first touch of his tongue she almost came. Molly tried to pull herself back to stem the surge of pleasure, but he threw a hand down on her belly and held her in place.

'Uh uh,' he slurred. 'I'm still your superior for the time being, Molly Dawes.'

So she let him. Molly focussed on holding back, but knew her resistance was hopeless. Luckily, he teased at first, soft little licks and sups, but soon grew more forceful. He brought his mouth right down against her before laving up, drawing from her the most brilliant sense of imminent oblivion. Her clit was crushed under his tongue, but in that warm, wet, pressing way that made stars burst out behind her eyelids. Then he was darting around again, ever growing circles, building, raising her higher all the time.

When she felt two fingers slide up into her, she knew she was lost. She dared glance down. He turned his eyes up to hers just as he closed his lips over her and sucked.

She came.

Oh, Christ, would she ever come as hard again?

A strange sound could be heard, a sort of mewling cry of confusion. Pleasure hurtled through her, propelled from her clit, still enclosed within his mouth, right through, dashing along her body to tingle her hair and flex her toes. She would realise afterwards that the noise was her, a sheer, unadulterated wail of ecstasy.

She slackened. With little pants and murmurs of after-shock, she lay heavy on the bed. Eventually, he crawled up and came to lie beside her, smiling softly. It took a while for her to recover.

'Thank you,' she managed.

He smirked. 'That's the last thing you need to say.'

'I won't say anything then, just one more thing …' She gave him a sly smile of intent. 'I haven't finished with you yet, Captain James.' And with new found vigour, she spun herself over and knelt on all fours before him. He sniffed out a laugh and placed a hand on her back, stroking it down over the rounded curve of her bum, enjoying the smooth glide of her skin. He kissed where he could while moving to kneel behind her.

Charles placed his hands on her hips almost reverentially. 'Christ, Molly, that is … I'd die happy tonight after this.'

'Don't say that, you numpty!'

'But, God … you are …' And he slid into her, his words morphing into a groan of the deepest satisfaction.

He was inside her again. After months of emptiness that she'd filled with enriching herself without him, he was back where he belonged. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears threatened again but when he moved in her, they were forgotten. Jesus, that was bloody brilliant!

Charles stroked along her slowly at first. They fell silent, their sex creating an atmosphere of hushed awe. Her body relinquished him reluctantly each time he withdrew and welcomed him ardently with each push forward. He hit her g-spot in this position and Molly found herself bunching the sheet tight in her fists to stem the rise of another fast orgasm.

He didn't speak, but she could hear his breath coming heavy through his nose, could feel the concentration and focus on what she was doing to him. Then he leaned over and pulled her up so that she rested flush against him, her back to his chest. She knelt back on his thighs and they adjusted so that he didn't fall from her. He was higher and deeper than ever, as if they were joined inexorably.

He rocked, just enough to affirm his presence inside her. His hand rose to her cheek and he turned her head to him and kissed her, while the other hand found her left breast and cupped it gently, toying with the nipple, completing the circle of pleasure.

Molly imagined that their bodies would fuse, that they were so perfect for each other that they would somehow bind together like this forever. She moaned into his mouth and revelled in the deepness and hardness of him.

'I love you,' he murmured. 'I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.'

'Yes,' she replied. 'Me too. Me too. I love you too.' Slowly, he manoeuvred her back to all fours again. He needed his release now and moved more urgently.

When his fingers reached under and found her clit, she came suddenly and completely. Molly opened her mouth and cried out with the force of it, and with that, he came too.

'Oh fuck, oh fuck … fuck!' he groaned, all that his senses could allow at that time. She could feel him pulsing deep and hot into her and she took it all.

Again, afterwards, she didn't think she'd ever be able to move or think again. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, panting and sated.

She turned into him and he held her. Charles stroked her hair and kissed it softly. As she closed her eyes and drifted asleep, she heard him murmur against her, 'My girl.'

* * *

><p><strong>Love 'em! But they do beg for more. At some point, I will give them more, but time is short for me at the moment so bear with me. So good to have you all on board though, sharing in the Captain James love. Let me know your thoughts on this one, I loved writing it. Love their voices in my head. (That sounds weird ... not supposed to.) LL x <strong>

**For those who share my love of that other captain and those other dudes who do magic ... I haven't forgotten about them. More EW very soon. ;-) x**


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